The Notable Professional Dangers of Brunettes in Waistcoats
by MayFairy
Summary: Missy pops into Coal Hill one lunchtime, and seduces Clara into a cupboard for some "secret girl fun". One of Clara's coworkers, having been beforehand a bit taken with Missy and her waistcoat, is disapproving, but also impressed. (Misffle)


**This is just smut, really.**

* * *

Just why Clara bothers rereading Pride and Prejudice when she knows it almost word for word these days, she has no idea. It's a comfort thing, really. Sitting in her classroom, with a cup of tea, reading Pride and Prejudice. No aliens. No nonsense. Just nice normality, for a brief time.

Not that she doesn't love the alien madness. Because, oh, she does. But sometimes she just needs Jane Austen, in some shape or form. (Well, there's one form in particular she's fond of, but that one requires a time machine to get her hands on.)

"Clara?"

Clara looks up to see the maths teacher, Kalei Jacobs, standing in the doorway. Danny's replacement. A very petty part of Clara had wanted to hold that against her, but that feeling hadn't lasted. She and Kalei were too… similar. Kindred spirits, in some ways.

"Yeah?" Clara asks. "What's up? Is Sally ranting about her mother again?"

Kalei chuckles. "No, nothing like that. There's someone wandering around the school, looking for you?"

Clara can think of only two likely candidates. She's not in the mood to see either of them, not in the mood for Time Lords and their nonsense today.

"Who?"

Kalei shrugs, a little grin on her face. "Some Scotswoman in a waistcoat? Late forties? Quite hot in an intense, weird kind of way-"

"Oh god, please stop talking," Clara groans. "Trust me, you don't want anything to do with her."

"No, you'd know if brunettes were my type," Kalei says, winking.

Clara laughs as she gets up from her desk. "Can you show me where she is? She's really not someone we should be leaving to wander around on her own."

"Sure."

"Hang on, did you say _waistcoat_? That's not her usual thing."

"Yep. It's a _very_ nice waistcoat. I had to take a moment to make my brain recall how to function, to be honest."

They leave the classroom, walk a little way, and then sure enough, there's the Queen of Evil. In cheerful conversation with a pair of Year 10 students, who look intrigued by whatever she's saying. Her hair is loose, and she's wearing form-fitting trousers, a white blouse, and a dark purple waistcoat, along with her usual boots.

It's… a good look on her. A very good look.

"...and that's why I'm never going canoeing ever again, and why you should _always_ carry a spare lipstick, girls," Missy is saying to the teenagers, who nod as though she's just imparted some kind of gospel truth on them.

"Missy," Clara says loudly, with a false friendliness that is offset by her extremely fake smile. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I had to surprise my favourite little English teacher, didn't I?" Missy says, beaming at the sight of her and crossing to kiss Clara on the cheek, much to her annoyance.

"Come on, Lily, Sara, go get some fresh air," Kalei tells the Year 10s in the meantime, and they run off after giving Missy little waves, which she happily returns, along with a blown kiss for good measure. Once they're gone, Kalei gives Missy and Clara a smile. "Well, looks like my work here is done. It was nice to meet you, Missy."

She walks away, and Clara notices Missy's eyes are fixed on Kalei's legs.

"Now, that's a well worn floral skirt if I ever saw one," Missy murmurs, only to get whacked on the arm by Clara. "What? It's not like you can't have _noticed_. She's very pretty."

"Yeah, and I'm fairly sure her type doesn't include psychopathic aliens with a body count," Clara retorts. "Now, what the hell are you doing here?"

Missy's gaze returns to Clara, and she licks her lips, a gleam entering her eyes. "Oh, I'd have thought that was obvious."

Clara feels her mouth go dry. "Oh."

Missy takes Clara's hand and pulls her down the corridor, past a couple of stray students who glance at them curiously, before they finally reach a nice secluded supply closet. The same one the Doctor had landed in after his regeneration, actually.

The door has been shut for all of a second before Clara finds herself slammed against it, Missy's hands groping her thighs and the Time Lady's lips crushing against hers.

"Mmm, you taste yummy," Missy murmurs.

Clara is used to Missy's slightly strange comments in these scenarios, by this point. She just takes it as a compliment. Besides, a moment later, Missy's knee insinuates itself between Clara's thighs, and she's too busy moaning to give much else any thought.

"Wait, Missy, no, not here, this cupboard doesn't even have a lock on it-"

"And that's a problem why?"

"We might get caught?"

Missy hums, and licks a stripe up Clara's neck. Clara momentarily forgets how to breathe, and then grinds her hips against Missy's knee, desperate for the friction.

"Well, I suppose you'll have to be nice and quiet, then," Missy says, leaning back just enough to give her a small, devious smile.

A part of Clara wants to argue, but the other part can only think about the knee pressed against her core and how she can feel her blood pulsing against it. With a new desperation, she nods.

Missy kisses along her jaw, nipping occasionally, and nibbling when she reaches the earlobe. Between that and her knee sliding just enough to give Clara the friction she wants so desperately, Clara can't help the moan that escapes her.

"Tsk, you're going to get us caught," Missy says, with mock disapproval. "Not that _I_ mind, but having someone like Pretty Skirt find us might not be good for your job prospects. That's alright, though. I have an idea of how to keep that mouth of yours occupied."

She spins them around, so that it's her back against the cupboard door, and pushes on Clara's shoulders until the human falls to her knees.

Clara doesn't have to be told twice. She unbuttons Missy's trousers and pulls them down, to reveal black underwear with lace trim - the usual. Practical, but still pretty. Clara runs her fingers over the material, over the heat coming from Missy's body, and relishes how Missy inhales at the touch.

"So, do you shag a lot of the Doctor's companions? When he's not looking?"

Missy laughs. "Oh, no, that's reserved for the special few. Yourself, the lovely Miss Shaw, and little Miss Grant. The latter has no idea of who I really am, of course."

"Let me guess, because she'd run away screaming if she knew?" Clara asks, pressing her fingers a bit harder against the fabric and rubbing as lightly as she possibly can.

"Actually, I think she might have fancied the old me. Just a little. Maybe she didn't even know it herself. But things were all very confusing back then. Sometimes it seemed as though everyone just fancied everyone - which would have been a lot simpler, really-" Missy frowns down at her. "Why in the world am I telling you this? Why are you _talking_? You know exactly where your mouth is supposed to be. Get on with it, puppy."

Clara just cocks an eyebrow. "Or what?"

Missy's hand grabs her hair and uses it to yank her forward, painfully hard. "You know exactly what, you insolent little ape. Or have you forgotten when you couldn't sit down for three days?"

Clara can't argue with that, and feels her whole body flush with heat at the memory of the wonderful burning sensation Missy's punishment had inflicted on her backside. With that in mind, she pulls down Missy's underwear and licks her lips as Missy's legs fall further apart.

When Clara's tongue finally sweeps across the warm, wet flesh, Missy moans appreciatively.

"Hey, quiet, remember?" Clara says, frowning at her.

Missy blinks. " _I_ don't recall saying anything about _me_ being quiet. Not really my area, is it, dear? Why should I care about us being caught?"

"Missy-"

"What is it, puppy? Afraid to be caught with your tongue in another woman's cunt?"

"I care about keeping my job!" Clara hisses, her cheeks burning impossibly hot.

"Oh, don't worry, I can just murder anyone who tries to fire you-"

"That's not helping-"

Missy lets out a sigh of annoyance, and tightens her grip in Clara's hair to yank her upwards, narrowing her eyes. It hurts. Clara shouldn't enjoy that. She does a bit.

"Look, you either trust me, and use that irritating mouth of yours to make me come, or you walk away high and dry, right now," Missy says simply.

The worst part is, it's not even a choice. The Doctor isn't the only Time Lord that Clara is addicted to.

As soon as Missy's grip allows, Clara's mouth is eager and dedicated in finding Missy's most sensitive spots and giving them the attention they deserve. Clara sucks on her clit, and Missy lets out a soft moan, but one she keeps acceptably quiet.

It doesn't even seem like it's effort, for Missy to keep herself quiet. But then, Clara has long suspected that her high volume levels during sex are more to do with her theatrical nature than anything else.

"That's it, good girl," Missy says, and Clara shivers at the way her voice feels like more of a caress than the hand stroking her hair, somehow. "You make your Mistress feel good…" Her voice is a little breathless, which is one of the things Clara finds the most attractive in her.

 _Not long now, just hang in there_ , she has to tell herself.

"Just a little more," Missy whispers, clutching Clara's hair tighter. "Just for me, just for your Mistress."

Clara's tongue presses a bit harder, and is rewarded with the sound of Missy's tiny gasp as she comes, and her hand tightening in her hair.

Once Missy has recovered a little, she's yanking Clara to her feet and pulling her into a rough kiss, of tongues and teeth and over eager lips.

"Good girl, thank you," Missy says. "Now, where were we?" She lifts her eyebrows, eyes widening a little before she spins them around again, putting Clara back against the door. "Oh, yeah, I was going to fuck you to the point of almost getting us caught. How does that sound?"

Clara can't quite bring herself to speak. She's impossibly turned on, can't imagine stopping, but also can't bring herself to vocally support the absurdly risky idea.

So, instead of speaking, Clara hitches her skirt around her hips, pulls down her tights, and leans back on the door before spreading her legs in invitation.

Missy smiles. It's not a nice smile. It's the look of a hunter, when it's stumbled across an injured animal in the woods. A predator that knows it has already won. A predator ready to eat something alive.

Well, Clara's more than fine with that possibility.

The Time Lady fixes her own clothing up as she contemplates Clara, and then, sure enough, drops to her knees to taste her. Missy moans with appreciation, which is probably flattering, but also likely just theatrics, making Clara rolls her eyes.

Missy's tongue is sharp and wicked in the most delicious way, though, and it isn't long before Clara is clutching at Missy's blouse and hair and breathing harder because it feels _so good, so fucking good_ -

Until Missy's mouth is just gone. Clara protests immediately, not quite forming words but managing to be rather vocal all the same. Missy just chuckles and gets to her feet, kissing Clara soundly so that she can taste herself, like she knows Clara loves.

Her hand slips between Clara's legs to cup her in her palm. Clara frowns and tries to grind against it, but it isn't easy.

"Missy-"

Missy's finger - from her other hand - stops her mouth. "Uh uh uh. Use my name."

Clara swallows. "Mistress."

"Yes?" Missy asks, blinking innocently at her at the same time that her hand applies just enough pressure to make Clara squirm a fraction. "Oh. This. You want me to fuck you, is that it?"

"I recall it being promised?"

"Not promised, not quite," Missy says, voice quiet as she presses her nose into Clara's cheek. "I'm almost definitely planning on it, but I think I'd like you to ask me nicely, first."

"Please."

"Ooh, good start. Bit more."

"Please, Missy."

Missy's other hand slips down from near Clara's face, to slap her bum, surprisingly hard, making Clara yelp a bit. "Use my name."

"Please, Mistress," Clara whispers. "Please, fuck me."

Missy smiles, kisses her, and does just that. Her fingers take Clara over and over again, fast and hard and _oh so good_. They curl inside her and Clara's legs almost give out on her. By the time she actually brushes her thumb over Clara's clit, Clara is trembling in Missy's arms, so close, kept on the edge in a way no has ever done to her the way Missy does it.

Missy does it to be cruel. Clara would hate for her that, maybe, if she didn't love it so much.

"One more please," Missy asks, voice soft in her ear.

"Please."

Thumb in just the right place, the softest little touches, and Clara is coming with a moan that Missy half swallows as she kisses her.

"Shhhh," Missy says, smiling. "This is our secret girl fun, yeah? Got to be sneaky about it."

"Thought you didn't care about getting caught," Clara replies, still trying to get her breath back.

Missy shrugs. "I'm hardly one for consistency, dear. Bananas, remember?"

Sometimes, after fucking her senseless, Missy will help Clara tug all of her clothing back into place, her meticulous nature coming in handy. This is not one of those times. Instead, Missy leans back against the nearest shelf, hands in her trouser pockets, hair thoroughly mussed, and watches Clara clean herself up with a lazy, appreciative smirk.

It makes Clara want to snog or fuck the smirk right off her face. But lunchtime must almost be over, and she needs to get out of this cupboard before the students start milling back in.

Finally, Clara is ready to go back outside, or almost is. Missy steps in and licks her thumb before using it to tidy the corner of Clara's reapplied lipstick.

"There you go," Missy says quietly. "Still look a _bit_ like you've been fucked in a cupboard, but only Pretty Skirt has any reason to suspect, and she seemed - what would you call it? - chill. I bet she's _chill as_ , man."

"I guess? Only about some things."

"You should fuck her sometime."

"Nah, she keeps giving me these disapproving looks when she catches me leaving early or arriving late because I've been with the Doctor. Massive turn off. Besides, I think she likes blondes."

"Well, that's original of her," Missy remarks, dryly.

Clara laughs, and steals a quick kiss. "This was… fun. I'll see you later?"

"At some point, probably."

"Bye, Missy."

"Bye, puppy."

With a small smile, Clara slips back out into the corridor, smoothing down her hair one more time as she walks to the staffroom in the hopes of making a cup of tea before the next class.

Kalei lifts an eyebrow at her from across the room, and Clara lifts an eyebrow back.

The look she gets in return reads as something along the lines of _I don't exactly approve, but… nice one._

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 **Yeah, I threw in my Class OC bc it fits the canon and also it gave me the chance for a couple of really ironic bits of dialogue, which was fun. Thanks for reading, let me know what you thought!**


End file.
